Salutations
by zarabithia
Summary: Buffy's children encounter Angel for the first time.
1. Default Chapter

Salutations

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: All is owned by the Great Joss. I am not the Great Joss.

Pairings: Spuffy is mentioned, but they aren't here.

Summary: Seven year old Giles Summers encounters Angel for the first time.

* * *

There was bad, then there was very, very, very bad. This situation was definitely the latter. For a moment, all seven year old Giles Summers could do was stand there, frozen to the ground, and contemplate the many ways his parents were going to punish him. It took him less than a minute to decide that he would never be able to play outside again. _Ever._

Jeremy Tucker, the only thing Giles had that was even close to a friend, leaned closer, shook his head in sympathy, and made the situation worse. "You are so incredibly dead."

"I-i-it's j-just a window," Giles tried to snap. It was difficult to snap when you stuttered, and even more difficult when you were frightened. Thus, his angry retort came out as more of a whimper.

"Yeah, but it's _that _house," Jeremy argued, gesturing towards the very large, and very dark Victorian across the street. Giles had heard his mother's friend Willow use the word _imposing _once, and he decided that, if the word could apply to the tarantula they had seen at the zoo, it could definitely apply to the house in front of him.

"I-I d-don't see what's s-so s-special 'bout t-that house," Giles lied.

Jeremy laughed softly to himself while he leaned down and picked up a handful of the snow off the Cleveland sidewalk. "That's cuz you haven't been here that long."

"W-well, w-why won't you j-just tell me?"

Jeremy was still expertly packing the snow in his small hands when he answered. "That house belongs to a monster," he explained.

"M-monsters aren't real!" Giles protested. Madeline believed they were, and talked about "slaying" them a lot. Giles didn't particularly like talking about monsters, or witches, or any of the scary things Maddy liked. Those things mostly led to wet sheets, and wet sheets mostly led to a disappointed Mommy and Daddy.

"They are too real."

"F-fine then. W-what type of m-monster l-lives there?"

Jeremy scoped down to pick up more snow to add to his snowball. "Well, nobody really knows. Charlie thinks it's a werewolf, but Francis swears to have seen it once, and says it isn't furry at all, but that he does have a bumpy head and pointed teeth. I think it's probably a Frankenstein."

At that, Giles could almost laugh. "Frankenstein d-definitely isn't r-real." His Daddy had said so, after all, and had laughed when he had said so.

Jeremy shrugged. "Whatever. But it _is _a monster, take my word for it, kid."

Giles scowled. "Y-you're only t-two years older 'an me, and I-I-I'm n-not a k-kid!" Not for the first time, Giles hated his stutter, and wondered why he had to be cursed with it.

Jeremy laughed again, taking delight in the poor kid's pain. "Whatever, again. Hmm. . . I wonder what he'll do to you when he finds out what you did to his window?"

Giles shivered, and pulled his coat around him.

Jeremy rubbed the snowball between his hands thoughtfully as he considered Giles' fate. "I don't think he'll eat you right away. You're kind of skinny. Maybe he'll lock you up in his dungeon and fatten you up first."

"L-like Hansel?"

"Dunno. Which one was the girl?"

"G-gretel."

"Well, more like Gretel, then."

Giles glared at Jeremy, and wondered why he didn't have as many friends as Maddy seemed to have. "I-I'm not a g-girl, and I'm going h-home."

Jeremy grinned. "Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, if you don't go 'fess up to Monster Man, he'll probably use his monster senses to come find you _and _your family. He'll probably eat Maddy first, 'cuz she's pretty."

Anger swelled through Giles. He was scared, sure, but no one was going to mess with his Mommy, his Daddy, or his Maddy. Squaring his shoulders, he carefully looked both ways before crossing the street.

"Hey, where are you going?"

"I'm g-g-going to t-tell t-the m-monster the t-t-truth." That made Giles feel a little better. After all, his Mommy always told him to tell the truth, and that lying would just make bad things worse. So, now he'd tell the truth, even if it did get him eaten. At least this way, his family would be safe.

Giles was halfway up the sidewalk when Jeremy's snowball hit him square in the back of the head.

Angel was picking up the last piece of shattered glass when he heard the knock. It took him by surprise for two reasons. Firstly, no one ever came to visit him, with the exception of Connor, and those visits he knew about months in advance. Secondly, the knock sounded like it was coming from a child.

Throwing the last shard of glass in the trash can, Angel gave his den one last irritated look. Unexpectedly, a feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he remembered when his workspace had been littered with friends. Images of Doyle, Cordelia, Gunn, Wesley, Fred, Lorne, and even Spike flashed through his memory.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, Angel willed those decade old memories away. They were all gone –Doyle and Cordelia had been the first to go, followed Fred. . . Gunn and Wesley had fallen in the final battle. Lorne had walked away, as had a newly human Spike, once the battle had been over. He'd gone back to Buffy, of course, finally feeling that he'd had something to offer her.

Angel had ignored the wedding invitation when it had come. Instead, he had decided on a change in scenery, and decided another Hellmouth would do.

But he'd never involve friends again. _Never._

Four more tiny knocks had sounded by the time Angel reached the front door. Opening it, he was surprised to see a tiny blonde haired, blue eyed boy standing on his step.

"Can I help you?" he asked, trying to sound gentle.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry f-f-for th-th-throwing my b-ball th-th-through y-your w-w-window."

"That was you?"

"Y-yes."

"You really shouldn't play ball so close to someone's house."

"I. . . I know. M-m-mommy and D-daddy told m-me, but I-I didn't listen. Actually, Jeremy . . . " the boy's voice trailed off and he shifted his feet uncomfortably. Angel could smell the scent of the child's fear, and that disturbed him, more than it should.

"Well, sounds to me like your Mommy and Daddy know what they're talking about. Maybe you should listen to them in the future."

The child nodded, and shivered again, making Angel inwardly wince. Briefly, he wondered what Connor would have looked at this age, but pushed that thought away. Nostalgia was bad for you, and didn't serve any productive purpose.

Still, the kid being scared of him _hurt, _even if it shouldn't. Feeling awkward, Angel knelt down in front of the child so that they were closer to being eye-level. "I know you're scared, but you don't have to be."

The child sighed. "I-I'm pretty much s-scared all the time. N-not b-brave l-like M-Maddy."

"Maddy?"

"M-my sister."

"Well, I don't know Maddy, but I do think it was very brave of you to confess to what you did. Most people would just run away."

The little boy cocked his head thoughtfully and seemed to consider that information. "M-Mom says i-it's important to t-tell the t-truth. D-Dad says i-it makes t-things l-less complicated."

In spite of himself, Angel smiled. "That's certainly true."

"S-so, I f-figured that i-if I told y-you w-what happened, then m-maybe y-you'd j-just lock m-me in y-your dungeon, and n-not eat me. Or m-my f-family."

The smile fell from Angel's face, and he just stared at the child for a minute. "Eat you?"

A timid nod came from the child. "A-and y-you c-can. But not my f-family."

"Why would you think I'd do something like that?"

The child's shoulders loosened, and he smelled less terrified. "J-Jeremy s-says y-you. . . " Suddenly the child began to frown. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft that Angel wouldn't have been able to hear him, if he hadn't been a vampire. "J-Jeremy s-says y-you're a m-monster."

"Well, Jeremy's right, kiddo, I am a monster."

"Y-you are?"

"Yes. But I'm a good monster, and I don't eat people. I especially don't eat little kids."

"Oh. D-do you eat other m-monsters?"

The smile returned to Angel's face as he contemplated the answer to that question. "Nah, they don't taste very good. I do, however, beat up the bad monsters."

For the first time, the little boy smiled. "Th-that s-sounds like fun."

"It is, kinda."

A small, warm hand reached out towards him. "M-my name is G-Giles."

Angel took the little hand in his own and shook it. "Giles, huh? I knew a Giles once. Well, actually, that was his last name. My name is Angel."

"D-daddy knows s-someone n-named A-Angel. At least I-I think he does. H-he says that Angel was a b-bloody p-ponce for n-not c-coming t-to the w-wedding."

A bloody ponce? The phrasing screamed Spike, but Angel pushed that thought away. Besides, it was probably only because the child in front of him reminded the vampire so much of William. "Speaking of your parents, you'd better be getting home. It's getting pretty late."

"Y-yeah. Um, A-Angel, are there a lot of m-monsters in C-Cleveland?"

Standing, Angel took a step outside and shut the door behind him. "Yes there are. Which is why I'm going to walk with you, to make sure you get home okay."

The little boy smiled again, and Angel felt some of the loneliness leave him that had sat there for the past decade.

Spying another child standing across the street, Angel asked, "Is that Jeremy? Is he your friend?"

"N-no, n-not really. H-he makes fun of me a lot, b-but he k-kinda hangs out w-with me."

Angel glanced down at the child sympathetically. Then he turned back to face Jeremy, and morphed into vamp face. The older child looked horrified, then turned and ran in the opposite direction, screaming his head off as he did so.

Hearing a soft chuckle beside him, Angel morphed back into human face and looked down at Giles.

"T-that w-was pretty f-funny, Angel. A-and t-the thing y-you d-do w-with your face w-was p-pretty c-cool."

"You think so?"

"Y-yeah."

The child's hand sneaked up and wrapped around Angel's, and again, Angel thought of Connor.

"H-hey, A-Angel, c-can I ask a q-question?"

"Sure."

"D-do y-you live all b-by yourself?"

"Yes."

"Why? D-don't you have any f-family?"

"Well, I used to. Would you like me to tell you about them?"

"Y-yep."

"Okay. I think I'll start with Doyle."

With Giles listening patiently, Angel allowed himself to remember his long since gone friends.

* * *

A/N: If there's any interest at all, I'll add a follow up chapter where A/S/B and Maddy all converse. Otherwise, this seemed a good stopping point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Salutations  
Chapter 2**

**A/N: In Angel's POV section, the italics represent flashbacks and thoughts. **

**

* * *

**

Nine year old Madeline Summers was watching her mother with so much excitement that it was difficult for her not to squeal with glee. Madeline thoroughly enjoyed watching her mother in "angry mode," providing, of course, that her anger was directed towards someone else. It usually was. Though sometimes Mom did have a tendency to get pretty frustrated at Maddy. Of course, those were the times that Maddy had to remind Mom that whatever she was angry about didn't even begin to compare to burning down the school's gym. Yeah, it made Mom even angrier, but it re-directed her anger at that point to Aunt Dawn, who had told Maddy that story to begin with.

Right now, however, Mom seemed to be upset at the babysitter. That was just fine, in Maddy's opinion. Stacy was far too bossy. Actually, Maddy thought Stacy was a supreme bitch, but she wasn't going to say that out loud. Mom believed that she was a baby, and shouldn't "talk like that." Daddy got to talk like that. In fact, he was able to say "bloody," which was quite possibly Maddy's favorite curse word of all time.

"We have specifically told you that neither one of them is to go outside after sunset. What part of that is so hard for you to understand?"

Well, Maddy didn't particularly care for that. After all, she was going to be a Slayer when she was older. It wasn't as though she was a wimpy ass, like Giles.

Maddy winced guiltily as she remembered why her mother was yelling at Stacy. Giles was missing, because he'd gone outside after sunset to play with Jeremy. Which he probably wouldn't have done, without the teasing she had done beforehand.

"_Geez, Giles. You're such a chicken-shit."  
" I-I am n-not."  
"Sure you are. That's why you have a stutter. It's like the warning label that comes on the stuff under the kitchen sink."  
"T-that's n-not w-why I have a s-stutter! The d-docter s-says -"  
"The doctor lies. I don't really know why he would do that. I guess it's just because he's a bloody bastard. But it's definitely a warning. And you know what it says?"  
"N-no."  
"It says, 'Behold! I am Giles Summers, and I am a chicken-shit!"  
"It d-does n-not and I -I am n-not a ch-chiken-sh-shit."  
"Oh, yeah? Then why won't you go outside to play with Jeremy like he wants to?"  
"Because it's d-dark outside."  
"So?"  
"It's a-against t-the rules."  
"Rules are for losers. And chicken-shits."_

And now, Giles was probably monster food. Maddy hoped it wasn't a vampire, or a demon that ate especially slow. If he had to die, he at least deserved a quick and painless death.

"Hey, my little capillary, what's the frown for? Are you worried about your brother?"

Maddy looked up to see her father sitting by her side. Maddy adored her father, mostly because he let her do pretty much whatever she wanted, but also because he always made her feel safe. "Yeah, Dad."

"Well, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. Your mom is the greatest Slayer to ever live. She'll find the platelet."

Maddy's frown deepened. "But, Dad. I'm going to be a Slayer someday, too. And since it's my fault -" Maddy stopped herself just in time. There weren't a lot of things that made Dad get upset, but teasing her brother was definitely on the short list.

"Your fault, Madeline?"

Damn, damn, damn. Dad never used her full name. What a crappy night this was turning out to be. Giles was missing, and probably dead, and she was _so_ in trouble.

"Well, I kinda called him a chicken-shit."

"You want to say that a little louder, Madeline Anne?"

_Madeline Anne?_ Yep, she was definitely doomed. "I called him a chicken-shit."

That got Mom's attention too. "Maddy!" Well, it was a better reaction than Madeline Anne.

"Well, I was just teasing. . um, playing with Giles. . .but I think it I made him mad. . .so I think he went outside because he wanted to prove he wasn't a chicken-shit after all."

Mom knelt down in front of her. "We don't have time to discuss your behavior right now, Madeline. We have to find her brother first, then you, me, and your father are going to have a nice long conversation."

Great. Now they were both calling her by her full name. She was pretty much doomed.

Mom whirled around to face Stacy again. "And you are officially fired. Don't even think you're getting paid for tonight, either. Just get your ass out of my house."

"You're going to go look for him, then?"

"Yes. You'll need to stay here with Maddy."

"Be careful, love."

"I will."

Madeline waited for her mother to leave before turning her attention back to her father. Sure, he had been angry at her, but Dad never stayed upset. "I think we should go look for Giles too, Dad."

"You heard what your mother said, Maddy."

_Ah-ha!_ They were back to Maddy. "Yes, Daddy. But I think we should go find him anyway."

"No.'

"But, Dad!"

"I said no, Maddy. Besides, you need to sit there and think about what you said to your brother."

"I know what I said was wrong, Dad, and I'm sorry. Besides, even if Giles is a chicken-shit, he's my chicken-shit. So, I think we should find him so I can let him know."

"Maddy. . . "

"Please?"

"NO."

Maddy crossed her legs patiently. This was going to take a while, but eventually Dad would give in. He always gave in, at least when Mom wasn't around.  
---------------------------------------  
Angel and Giles arrived at the end of the driveway before the familiar scent reached up and assaulted the vampire's nose. _Buffy_ lived there.

Giles noticed Angel's abrupt stop, perhaps because the stopping of Angel's movement also interrupted the description of Wesley. "A-Angel? W-why did w-we stop here?"

For a minute, all Angel could do was stare at the house in front of him. _Buffy's_ house. Part of him screamed, illogically, that she deserved something grander. She was a princess . . . a queen. . . . the Slayer. . . she deserved something much more elaborate. It didn't seem possible that she called the light blue split level ranch style home in front of him home. Denial was still rich in Angel's veins when he looked down at Giles - right into a familiar pair of blue eyes.

_You are cordially invited. . . _

They were Spike's blue eyes.

_To the wedding of William and Buffy. . . _

No. They weren't Spike's eyes. Spike's eyes had been the blue of the cold blooded killer -

_"Drusilla may have sired me, but you made me a monster!"_

-that Angelus had turned him into. Giles' eyes were a warm and friendly blue, marked with a heavy dose of inquisitiveness and a dash of uncertainty. They reminded the vampire more of the sky than ice. They weren't _Spike's_ eyes. They were _William's_.

_February 14, 2006. . _

"A-Angel? W-what's w-wrong?"

_2817 Chatterly Lane, London, England. . ._

London, England. How the hell did they get from London to Cleveland?

Well, that was obvious, Angel supposed. Most likely, they had gotten from London to Cleveland the same way he had gotten from LA to Cleveland, albeit with less hassel. After all, Spike was human now.

_You are cordially invited. . ._

And as a human, Spike didn't have to worry about avoiding the sun during travel.

"A-Angel? Are y-you okay?"

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Angel smiled at Giles before releasing the warm -

_Warm with Buffy's blood._

-hand that had remained firmly clasped in his own -

_Why didn't I realize it before?_

-since they had began their trip twenty minutes before.

"Nothing's wrong, Giles."

_Giles_. And those eyes. _How stupid can I be_? Angel could practically hear Cordelia's voice in his head. _Duh, much?_ Or maybe it was Buffy's voice. At this point, Angel was too confused to worry about specifics.

"D-don't y-you w-want t-to come in t-to m-meet m-my family?"

_Buffy. Spike_. Yes, he wanted to see them. But, oh, he couldn't. "No, I'm afraid I can't. I have to go."

"W-why? They w-won't m-mind th-that you're a m-monster."

_No, I'm sure they won't._

"A-and M-maddy m-might even th-think it's pretty c-cool."

"Look, it's complicated, Giles. But-" The rest of Angel's sentence was interrupted as he felt the weight of a squirming ninety pounds jump on his back, wrap two very strong arms around his neck, and try desperately to stick him with the tiny stake in her hand.

"M-maddy! S-stop!"

"No! This is a vampire!"

Angel winced as the stake went into his left shoulder.

"I know! He's m-my f-friend! D-don't st-stake h-him!"

"There aren't any good vampires! He can't be your friend!"

_Well, I guess neither one of them knows about their father's heritage_, Angel decided. With a good deal of effort, he pried the child off him gently. It was the _gently_ part that gave him trouble. He could have easily thrown her off, but he wouldn't do that to a child. Especially not Buffy's child. _Her daughter_.

Eventually, he managed to wrangle the child off him, and looked up to see a familiar figure leaning against a tree, completely relaxed as Angel pulled the stake out of his shoulder.

"Hello, Spike."

"Hello, Peaches."

The greeting surprised both the tiny Slayer and Giles. The two children turned to look at their father in confusion. The little girl spoke first. "You know this vampire, Dad?"

"Yeah, my little capillary, I do."

"S-so, M-maddy shouldn't s-stake him, r-right, Dad?"

Spike shrugged. "Nah, I guess not. Your mom wouldn't like that very much."

"Mom knows him too?" the little girl asked incredulously.

"Sure does. She and the Great Poof go way back. Speaking of your Mum, she's out looking for you, platelet."

Giles looked down at his feet as though his father had scolded him, though Angel noticed that Spike hadn't so much as raised his voice.

"I-I'm s-sorry, D-Dad."

Spike leaned down, and picked the child up. "It'll be alright, 'bit. She'll be back soon, and then the five of us will have a nice little chat. Plenty to catch up on, and all that."

"Four," Giles corrected. "A-Angel isn't st-staying."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I should really be getting back -"

"You haven't changed one bit. You're still a bloody ponce. You're going to come inside and wait for Buffy to get back so that you can say hello."

"Spike, I really don't think -"

"And if you keep up the bloody martyr act, I'll hold you down and let Maddy stake you."

Not truly scared, but not relishing the hassel it would cause to leave, Angel shrugged in defeat, and followed Spike and the children into the house.  
------------  
To Be Continued, if there's still interest!


	3. Chapter 3

Salutations

Chapter 3

Spoiler: Both "Home," and "Not Fade Away" are referenced throughout.

Italics in odd places represent Angel's thoughts.

------------------

Well, this was definitely. . . odd. Angel's first impulse was to call it _wrong, _but walking through Buffy and Spike's living room - carefully side-stepping assorted toys littering the hard wood floor - listening to Spike's pathetic attempts to reprimand his children, Angel didn't feel that it was wrong. Not quite right, by any stretch of the imagination, but far from wrong. Everything from the disheveled couch cushions to the beaming family photographs hanging slightly askance on the crème colored walls screamed Buffy happiness and contentment. Okay, so the surplus of wooden toys, furniture and picture frames wasn't quite normal. The clusters of pencils perched on every end table and shelf screamed excessive, too. But other than those brief abnormalities, Buffy and Spike's living room was as ordinary as they came.

_That's what I wanted,_ Angel reminded himself_. I wanted Buffy to have a normal life._ Hadn't that been why he had walked away? Wasn't that the reason he had come to LA? Without warning, Doyle's voice sounded in his head. "Let me tell you a story. . ."

Forcing the painful remembrance out of his head, Angel struggled to reassure himself. Yes, this was hat he had wanted. Yes. A normal life for Buffy. Yep. Yes. Absolutely.

But he'd never imagined _Spike _to be the person she'd end up sharing it with. And that tiny little addendum to Angel's dream was just enough to keep this from feeling _perfectly _right, regardless of the number of smiles that stared out at him from the walls. _Is that Xander standing next to Spike in the picture? Dressed as Santa Claus?_

Why hadn't someone told him? A little forewarning would have been nice. Hell, there was a prophecy for everything else, wasn't there? Though with his luck the said prophecy would be so hopelessly vague that it wouldn't have done any good - just like a certain _Shanshu _prophecy.

But what if such a prophecy _had _existed? What if he had known the full ramifications of leaving Sunnydale in advance instead of some foolish, romanticized notion? _Would I still have gone?_

No. Yes. Yes. No. Angel had no idea._If I hadn't left Sunnydale, I'd never have taken over Wolfram and Hart._ Which meant they'd still be alive. Wesley. Gunn. Fred, even if she'd been stuck as a slave in an evil dimension- she'd still be alive. And if he hadn't ever come to LA, Cordelia and Doyle would still be alive too. _They aren't now. None of them are._

Angel was shaken from his contemplation by the sound of Giles' voice. "A-Angel?"

Both Giles and Spike were looking at him with concern. _Since when does Spike feel concern for me? _Madeline was also looking at him, but her look was more of a suspicious glare.

"Sorry, Giles. I was just. . . reminiscing."

"What's that mean?" Madeline demanded.

"For Angel, it means he's found a reason to brood. In another context, it would be a fancy way to say remembering."

"W-who w-were you r-reminiscing a-about, A-Angel?"

"My friends," he answered truthfully.

"W-which ones? D-Doyle, C-Cordelia, or W-Wesley?"

It sounded strange, hearing their names on a child's tongue. Angel wondered, not for the first time, what Connor's first word had been. It stung terribly to think that it could have been Dad (_or Cordy. . .or Wesley. . . Or Gunn. . . Or Lorne. . . Or Fred. . . ) _But it nearly killed Angel to think that it could have been. . .and probably _was Dad, _only directed towards Holtz instead of him. The very same Holtz who Angel wanted to hate for robbing him of his only shot at fatherhood, but couldn't because Angel knew that he deserved it. _Didn't I take away his child? Didn't I force him to kill his own child?_

In his worst dreams, Angel knew what that felt like. Because in those dreams, Wolfram and Hart hadn't come through with their end of the bargain. In _those _dreams, Angel had been forced to watch as Connor bled to death from the knife Angel had plunged into his neck. So though Angel had ached every day for what Holtz had done, not once did he ever forget that he deserved it. And in the end, Connor had paid for what he had done. Connor had been stripped of his childhood when Holtz had come back to exact his deserved vengeance. In an effort to makeup for what Holtz had taken away, Angel had taken the deal with Wolfram and Hart - and ended up taking away his friends' lives.

And they're all dead. All of them except Spike. All dead. Because of me.

Yes, except for Spike. Spike, who had gotten his Shanshu. Spike, who had been given _his _shot at the normal life he'd tried to make sure Buffy had. The normal life he'd tried to give Connor. The normal life Angel had so desperately wanted.

The same Spike still had little Giles perched on his hip. _Giles is what - seven? Eight? He's small, but I'm pretty sure he's too old to be held like that. _Besides, wasn't Spike supposed to have lost his vamp strength when he Shanshued? Why exactly was he holding his much older than a toddler son?

I never got to hold Connor at that age. . .

Apparently, Spike was still holding Giles because the child was explaining all about Doyle, Cordelia, and Wesley. "A-And A-Angel says th-that W-Wesley used t-to have a st-stammer, wh-which is kinda like m-my st-stutter."

"Yeah, pet, Percy used to have a bit of a stammer."

"Who's Wesley? Actually, who's Doyle? Or Cordelia? And why do they have such funny names?"_A child,_ Angel reminded himself_. She's just a child._

"Th-that's not n-nice, M-Maddy. 'Sides, their n-names aren't any worse th-than Uncle Xander or Aunt W-Willow."

"Or that bitchy bint Kennedy," Spike offered with a nod. "Er. . . don't' say bitchy, Madeline. Or bint, for that matter. It'll upset your mum."

"D-Dad's right. 'Sides, t-they're A-Angel's friends. Y-you sh-shouldn't m-make fun of 'em."

Madeline shrugged. "Angel's just a vampire. What kind of a person befriends a vampire? They're _evil._"

While it hurt to hear a pretty familiar mantra cross the lips of Buffy's daughter, Angel wasn't so caught up in his own pain that he missed the pain that flashed across Spike's face at his daughter's words. For a brief moment, the tension and animosity between them vanished, and Angel felt his William's pain even more deeply than his own.

"Go to your room, Maddy."

"But, Dad -"

"Go, Maddy." Spike's voice was low and soft. It was the voice of a father rejected by his child. It was a feeling Angel knew well.

But Maddy was a lot younger than Connor had been, and a lot more obedient. Well, a _little _more obedient. She turned to head back to her room, but did pause long enough to grasp one of the many child-sized stakes of death disguised as a writing instrument. Grasping the pencil in her tiny hand, she stared distrustfully at Angel before promising, "If you hurt them, vampire, I'll hurt you. Just remember that. And I'll hear you, because I have special Slayer hearing."

Angel watched her tiny retreating form and was instantly reminded of the feeling he'd had jut after he'd met Buffy for the first time. _Such audacity. _He wasn't sure that this particular bundle of ill manners would amount to the same greatness. But, to be fair, that'd be difficult, when her mother was - what had Spike called her? The greatest Slayer ever? Yeah, that just about fit.

"D-Dad? W-what's a S-Slayer?"

"A Slayer?"

"F-first y-you said M-Mommy was the g-greatest S-Slayer ever and now M-Maddy says s-she's one. W-What _is _a S-Slayer?"

Spike squirmed, no doubt upset that he'd let that one slip. "Well. . . they .. . um.. . slay .. . things."

"What kind of things?"

"Monsters," Angel supplied, earning him a glare from Spike.

"What Angel meant, love, was -"

"I know, D-Dad. M-Monsters, like A-Angel, except b-bad ones. A-Angel f-fights the b-bad m-monsters, but he d-doesn't d-drink their b-blood, 'cuz they t-taste f-funny."

Spike blinked a couple of times, and glanced between Angel and Giles for a minute before managing to give a less than competent nod. "Is that right?"

Giles nodded enthusiastically. "S-So, is th-that w-what M-Mommy does? F-Fight m-monsters? Is s-she a g-good m-monster t-too?"

_No, but Daddy is._ Actually, Daddy was. Because Daddy had Shanshued. Because Daddy was a champion. Champions saved their friends and the world. They didn't get their friends killed in the process. So now Daddy got to be human instead of a monster_. Who says life isn't fair?_

"NO! Your mum most certainly is NOT a monster."

"T-Then how c-can s-she f-fight the monsters?" Little Giles' face dropped and he looked on the verge of tears. "Aren't th-they m-much s-stronger th-than s-she is?"

Spike glared once more at Angel before re-directing his attention back towards his son. "Shh, there's no need for that, my little capillary. Your mom's not a monster, but she isn't a regular human. She . . . welll.. ."

Feeling truly bad that he had forgotten how easily disturbed Buffy's son was, Angel attempted to help. "She has superpowers."

Angel felt extremely validated as Giles appeared to forget his sadness and looked as interested as he had been while Angel had told his story. "L-like S-Spiderman?"

"Yeah, pet. Like Spiderman."

"More like Superman."

At Angel's correction, Giles' look of interest turned to one of disappointment. "W-well, I g-guess th-that's better. S-Superman could k-kick S-Spiderman's butt. . . But S-Spiderman's cooler." Giles frowned again. "D-Dad? W-why d-did you and M-Mom tell m-me m-monsters weren't r-real?"

_That's a very good question, Giles._ Angel found a wall and leaned comfortably against it in anticipation of the explanation. Sadly, it wasn't forthcoming_. "I think we'll wait for your Mom to get home to answer that one, bit. Okay?"_

"O-okay," Giles muttered reluctantly.

"That's a good boy. Now, why don't the three of us make ourselves comfy and wait on your Mum. You can show Angel some of your drawings." Spike's suggestion accompanied his setting Giles down.

"You like to draw?" Angel smiled as the warmth of Giles' left hand found its way into his hand. His right hand sneaked around his father's.

As Giles nodded enthusiastically, Spike chimed in proudly, "He's very good."

I wonder if Connor would have liked to draw.

"N-no I'm n-not," Giles protested, clearly displeased with the extra attention. _Definitely William's son._

And Buffy's.

"Well, why don't you show me so I can see for myself"

"Uh. . . B-But, A-Angel, th-they r-really aren't v-very g-good."

Ah, this was familiar. It was the same song and dance he'd gone through back when he'd first tried to get William to read his poems. It was one of the few memories had of his time as Angelus that were actually _pleasant. _Angel found it odd that he should think of them now, amongst constant reminders of unpleasantness.

"You know, I draw too, Giles. Maybe we can compare pictures."

Giles brightened at the idea. "O-okay." The warm little hand disentangled from his own as the little boy ran towards the back of the house.

"He's gone to get his things, most likely," Spike offered by way of explanation.

"His things?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yes, ya git. His _artsy _things. Try not to act so dense when the boy gets back, eh? He might start to suspect you lied to him. Can't have that. He's very a very sensitive lad."

"It's good to know the Shanshu did such great things for your personal growth, Spike."

"Not so loud, ya ponce. The kiddies'll hear you."

"Yes, and they don't seem to know much about their dear old dad, do they?"

"Nope. Gonna stay that way too."

Whatever Angel was going to say was interrupted by the reappearance of Giles. Cradled in his little arms were a variety of coloring pencils (_how many pencils do Spike and Buffy own?) _, a coloring pad, and an assortment of markers and crayons. Out of instinct, both Spike and Angel leaned forward to help the child with his load before it collapsed. While the adults enchanted looks of equal disgust, Giles spread the materials on the floor. "C-Come on, A-Angel. Y-You c-can't d-draw w-while y-you're s-standing up."

Spike plopped down on the black leather couch - no doubt picked out by Spike himself, Angel thought in disgust - leaned back, smirked (_God, some things never change), _and gestured grandly in the general direction of Angel and Giles. "The capillary's right, Angel. Can't blood well draw while you're standing up. All that hunching over'll make your lines a bit squiggly."

"I do not hunch over."

"Sure you do."

"I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Uh, A-Angel? You're k-kinda h-hunching o-over n-now."

Sighing in defeat, Angel eased himself down onto the floor and accept the sheet of paper Giles offered.

----------------------

While the three men sat in companionable silence in the Summers' living room, and Maddy sat plotting in her bedroom, the most important woman in any of their lives stood in a very dissimilar living room across town. She had easily located that Tucker boy that Giles insisted on hanging out with. Once he had described what he had seen -

"_It was a monster, Mrs. Summers! It had HUGE bumps on its forehead and fangs, and it grabbed Giles just as it lurched for me -"_

-she had immediately came here, to the creature's home, in hopes that he would still be there. Upon entering, she had thought that the place was unusually well kept for a vamp. Sure, it bore the classic color combination of black - a lot of black - and a substantial dose of red, but not many of the vampires Buffy had fought would have ben interested in the classical works which lined the never ending bookshelves. Spike would have. Once upon a time, Angel would have too.

Mere minutes after that realization, Buffy spied the stairs leading down to the den. She followed them, stake firmly clutched in her hand. The stake remained in her hands until her eyes fell upon the drawing pad on the table. As she opened the drawing book, the stake fell from her hand. Her own eyes stared back at her. Followed by Spike, Cordelia, Wesley, and several other people Buffy didn't recognize.

For a minute, Buffy remained frozen at her spot as the information sunk in. Her son had been kidnapped by a vampire that knew her. A tall, dark haired vamp according to Jeremy. A tall, dark haired vamp who knew her, knew Spike, knew Cordelia, knew Wesley, had an appreciation for classical literature. . . and had kidnapped her son.

Giles is gone. Though she grieved for her son, and her eyes ached with unshed tears, picked up her stake determinedly. She'd have to mourn for Giles later - after Angelus had been taken care of.

----------

To Be Continued. . .


	4. Chapter 4

Salutations

Chapter 4

* * *

Buffy had thoroughly searched the rest of the West Side and performed a cursory browse of the east Side before giving up. Oh, to be sure, it was a temporary cease fire. Certainly while Angelus was loose, Buffy could never give up. Still, Buffy knew she had to return to her family. As it was, Spike never went to sleep on the rare nights he couldn't accompany her on patrol. With he addition of their missing son, the stress her husband was facing had no doubt doubled. She knew where Angelus lived and tomorrow when the sun was out and the vampire had to be inside, she would return. He would pay for taking away her son.

Giles. Her only son. Her _baby_. Her sweet little William boy. The memories of each shy little smile, each defiant argument with Maddy, each excited drawing, every laugh, every tear, every precious stutter that he hated so much. . . Buffy remembered every one of these. She remembered every prominent moment in her son's life and they flashed through her memory -from the first stirrings of nausea to the first kick to the more painful of her two children's births to his first tooth, to the first "Mommy," followed quickly by the first "Daddy." As the tide of memories washed over her, Buffy was hit by a _need_ to be near her husband and oldest child.

_Poor Madeline_. The baby was probably going to be haunted for the rest of her life with the knowledge of the role she had played in her brother's death.

* * *

Maddy had been banished to her room, though she was currently peeking around the wall separating the living room from the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"W-What d-do y-you th-think?"

"That's very good, Giles."

"Y-you r-really th-think s-so?"

"I sure do. Especially the shadowing you have. I didn't learn to do that until I was about three times your age."

"W-well, S-Superman has t-to have a sh-shadow. I th-think."

_Oh, come on_, Maddy thought in disgust. _Superman's a hero. Heroes don't have to have shadows._

Except for Slayers, of course.

"Of course he does." Well, a vampire's opinion wasn't to be trusted anyway.

"That's a real nice job, my little capillary. But, Angel, why exactly doesn't Spidey have a shadow?"

"Because he's a superhero!" The sentence was out before Maddy could help herself. Three sets of eyes turned to look at her.

Now would have been a good time to use those nice curse words her parents so much. A nice "blood," or "hell," or "damn," or perhaps all three. Except that would put her in even worse trouble. Time to switch gears. "Hiya, Daddy."

"Hiya, platelet. Wanna tell me what you're doin' out of your room?"

Maddy scowled.

Daddy stared back.

"If y-you c-come out, y-you have t-to b-be n-nice to A-Angel."

Maddy turned her scowl into the sweetest smile in her arsenal. "I'll be nice to Angel, Daddy. I promise." _And I'll be able to keep an eye on him out here._

"As long as you behave, you can come out, pet."

Maddy needed no further encouragement. She ran into the room and jumped onto the couch beside her father. "So, Angel, how did you meet my Mom and Dad? Was Mom trying to slay you?"

"M-Maddy!"

"Play _nice_, platelet."

"I AM, Dad. It was an honest question."

"Actually, Maddy, your Mom and I met because w were both fighting. . . uh, monsters."

Maddy cast a skeptical glance towards her father. "Is that true, Dad?"

"Well, I actually wasn't there, but -"

"But Mom says you have always fought monsters with her," Maddy interrupted.

"Er. . . well, that's a bit of an exaggeration, pet."

"I actually fought monsters with you Mom a full year before your Dad met her," Angel informed her cheerfully, while still in the midst of trying to give Spiderman a shadow.

"W-what kind of m-monsters?"

Angel glanced at Dad before answering. Maddy was getting quite confused with the relationship between her Dad and this Angel guy. Were they friends? She had thought so, but they argued a lot. On the other hand, they did the same annoying quiet communication that Mom and Dad liked to do.

Dad apparently gave his consent because Angel continued. "In the beginning it was vampires mostly -"

"But you're a vampire!"

"That's true."

"So, why do you fight other vampires?"

"Well, it's a long story."

"We've got lots of time. Mom's not home yet, and we don't have to go to bed 'til she gets home."

"Okay. . . "

* * *

Angel had made his way through the gypsy curse part of the story- carefully side stepping Spike's close association - when the ever prevalent scent of Buffy suddenly became even stronger. Even though he should have been prepared, the sight of Buffy silenced him.

Apparently, the sight of him didn't have the same effect. "Angelus. Get away from my children."

_Angelus_?

"But, Mom! Angel was telling about when he used to eat rats!"

"Y-yeah! A-And A-Angel's a g-good v-vampire!"

Buffy's confusion was clear. "Angel? But Jeremy said -"

The rest of Buffy's sentence was lost to Angel as he surveyed the toll time had taken on the woman standing before - and above - him. Or perhaps the lack of a toll would be a more accurate description. She had put on a bit of weight since the last time he had seen her, no doubt from having two children. But she certainly wasn't overweight. No, she just looked -healthy, and less like she was in dire need of a sandwich. The extra flesh around her face and neck gave her a softer look, making her closely resemble the Buffy that Angel had first come to know. There weren't any wrinkles yet, but a shadow of crow's feet were creeping in around those still brilliantly bright hazel eyes. Her blond hair didn't show an ounce of gray.

_Duh, Angel. She's Miss Clairol, remember? Buffy's blond has always come from a bottle. _Cordelia chose odd moments to assert herself into his brain. The blond hair had been cropped short and close to her head. A few stray strands twisted around her ears and curled under, reminding Angel of the way her curls had bounced around her shoulders when they had first -

_No, no_. It wouldn't do to have _that_ memory in his head right now.

Especially given that she was married to the _champion_ who had taken his Shanshu and was living the normal life - with a few alterations - he'd always envisioned her having.

_Especially_ since she now looked quite pissed.

"J-Jeremy l-lies a lot, M-Mommy." _Thank you, Giles_.

"And besides, you know that Tucker child is a bratty little bit, Buffy.

"Oh, that makes it okay. Because it's perfectly acceptable to frighten _bad_ children."

Okay, so she had a point. Apparently, she had several more points to make as well. "And why are our children still awake this late at night? More importantly, why are our children playing so close to him when you have no idea whether this is Angel or Angelus?"

Buffy's outburst had apparently surprised her children and her husband, but it hadn't surprised Angel. Her comments cut him deeply and the feeling was painfully familiar to Angel. The disapproving look, the sharp tone, and the biting words reminded him of Buffy's first visit to LA. He'd been trying so hard to save Faith's soul. In the end, all he'd wound up doing was causing their relationship to die for what had to be at least the fifth time. Well, the sixth, if one counted Buffy's initial reaction to finding out he was a vampire.

The sixth time. Yep. But oddly, it hadn't been the last. Was it any wonder that her perfect life was being shared with someone else? Angel wondered bitterly how many times Spike had been forced to watch _his_ relationship with Buffy die.

_Probably never_, he thought bitterly. The theory was further reinforced by all the smiling, cheerful, happy faces that stared back from the pictures that seemed to be everywhere Angel looked.

Angel had the sudden urge to return to his very empty home, with its lonely walls that had never held an overly happy wood frame. _And never will_.

Clumsily, he rose and stumbled to his feet. "I . . . ah. . . I think I should go."

"B-But, A-Angel!" Giles began to protest.

"You have to finish telling us about the rats!" Maddy finished.

Angel didn't know whether to be flattered that he was gaining Maddy's trust, or disappointed that the bond was developing because of his association with rats. Her mother, on the other hand, didn't seem to have any remaining affection for him at all. "I think that's a good idea."

_Well, it isn't like I was planning on staying in the first place, _he thought semi-angrily. _I wouldn't have stayed at all if Spike hadn't been so sure that you'd want to see me._

Speaking of which. . . wait, was Spike actually standing up for him?_ What the hell?_

"The bits need to go to bed. Why don't you tuck them in - and get the real story about what happened today from your son - while I talk to the Poof?"

Buffy looked like she wanted to protest, and Angel vaguely heard Maddy doing just that, but there was _Spike_, again reassuring _Buffy_ that he'd be okay. She didn't trust him anymore. _"No one in our camp trusts you anymore, Angel."_

He should just go. With his vampire speed, he could have gone by now. He should have. He should. Why didn't he?

Because of those _walls_. His very empty walls that had never held a picture frame.

Those damn walls were why Spike was dragging him into the kitchen, and he was following like an idiot.. "Okay, Spike. What the hell is going on?"

Spike may have Shanshued, but a mystical transformation didn't alter his faux look of innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Cut the crap, Spike. You only got me to stay here because you claimed Buffy would want to see me. That's obviously not true."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist. She's just a little concerned about the kiddies. My Goldilocks has an overly protective streak towards the bits."

"I noticed. Say, is that why neither of your children seem to have any idea about . . . your past activities? Buffy wanted to protect them?"

"No, that was my idea."

"Why?"

"Oy. I'd forgotten what a nosy bastard you are."

"Fine. I'll go."

"Oh, sit down, ya git. I just. . . It's for their own good, alright?"

"I have to do whatever I can to protect my family." Sometimes, Angel wondered if the mind wipe had excluded Spike. Angel didn't really know why it would do that, other than to serve as another reminder that the Senior Partners really did hate him after all. "Yeah. Their own good. Right."

"Look, as hard as we try to fight evil, it's always going to be around. We're stuck with it. Maddy and Giles are going to be directly involved in _fighting the good fight. _I didn't want them to ever know there were _good _vampires. Shades of gray not so good for the stake-age."

Stake-age? "_He uses her vocabulary. _Of course he did. Buffy was part of his world now, wasn't she? "You never wanted them to question whether or not the vamp they might be staking was one of the good guys?"

"That about sums it up. They hesitate, some vamp gets a lucky day."

Connor had been raised to hate vampires. "You know, raising them like that, if they ever find out the truth-"

"They might well end up hating me? Yeah, I already figured that into the equation. It's a possibility. But regardless, they'll be safe, won't they?"

Connor is safe. Angel had made sure of it. Regardless of the consequences. _Safe and happy. _So safe and happy that he could even afford a visit - once a year. But never on Christmas or Thanksgiving. Those were family holidays. _Time to be spent with his family._

"I understand, Spike, and to be honest, it's more sense than I ever expected from you. But what I don't understand is if that's how you feel, why-" Angel's sentence was cut off by the collision of Spike's fist with his gut. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Did it hurt you? At all?"

Spike's tone was completely without malice, and Angel was momentarily confused. Hadn't Spike intended to hurt him? "Not a bit. _Now _do you want to tell me why the hell you did that?"

"To prove a point."

"And which point would that be?"

"Bloody hell! When did you get so soddin' dense? Buffy needs you, Angel. That's the point! She needs you to help her fight because since I've become human, I'm as helpful as a bleedin' marshmallow in battle. Hell, the whelp did a better job fighting for a while, because he was used to fighting with an utterly useless form."

For the first time since he and Spike had been reunited, Angel looked at the Shanshued vampire in front of him and allowed himself to take in the full ramifications of the fulfilled prophecy. Unlike Buffy, time had drastically changed Spike's physical form. When did Spike get so tanned? Had William the human ever had so many _freckles? _The little brown dots covered Spike's cheeks and forehead, danced cheerfully towards his ears, and appeared to swoop downwards across his chest. Yuck. Picturing a naked, freckled Spike wasn't high on Angel's fun list. Angel rapidly averting his gaze more upward, to Spike's hair. Gone was the slicked back, straight bleach blond hair. In its place was a head of almost natural dark blond curls that were slightly tinged with gray around the tips. Gray. Spike was getting gray hair. But why not? He needed it to match the wrinkles that had taken permanent residence around his eyes and mouth. At least he was still wearing the too tight shirt and jeans. Otherwise, it wouldn't feel like Spike at all.

"You done undressing me with your eyes, Peaches?"

"I'm not - Oh, hell. You think Buffy needs my help?"

"You think she should patrol alone? Because she might as well, as much help as I can be to her." Spike ran an irritated hand through those _curls _and shook his head. When he spoke, Angel had to strain to hear him. "I love this life, but when I think of how much I can't do to protect her. . . . I'd almost give it all back. Sounds horrible, doesn't it?"

"No." It didn't. Because as much as Angel had wanted Spike's Shanshu, he also vividly remembered the taste of ice cream. Hadn't he given that all up in order to fight by Buffy's side?

Still, a very large part of Angel hoped Spike hated ice cream. Surely he was more of a yogurt guy anyway.

"So, you'll do it? You'll patrol with her?"

"I'll do it. For Buffy."

"Gee, don't you think you should ask me if that's okay first?" Buffy's irritated voice demanded. Angel and Spike both looked up to see the woman in question with her arms crossed expectantly in front of her.

"Um, if it's okay with you?" Angel asked.

Buffy lowered her arms and gave a genuine smile. "I'd like it a lot, actually. Giles explained what happened, and I'm sorry for the way I reacted."

"It's okay," Angel assured her.

"And Giles is of the opinion that he needs to help out around the house to help pay for the window he broke."

"Giles broke your window? That's my boy," Spike said proudly. When confronted with two irked glances, he cleared his throat and added, "It'll feel odd, though, working in a team again."

"The Scoobies aren't around?"

Buffy shook her head, but oddly didn't look as upset at the fact as Angel would have expected. "Nope. Xander has his own construction business now, so he's pretty much out of the loop. Willow and Kennedy pretty much stay away because well. . . .no one likes Kennedy very much. Giles is head of the new Watcher's council."

"What about the other Slayers?"

"Not all of them chose to _use _their Slayer powers." Buffy sounded proud of the fact that those girls had been given the choice she hadn't been given in the beginning. "Those that did are spread pretty much evenly throughout the rest of the world. Several others are actually being trained."

"What about Faith?" Well, he had to ask.

Buffy and Spike exchanged a look that could only be described as pure evil. Well, in Angel's opinion, anyway. Buffy answered him first. "Faith and I take turns watching over the hell mouth here in Cleveland. When we're off duty, we go to England to help Giles train the Slayers."

"And every time we see her, she asks if we've heard from her favorite vampire," Spike added. "Since I'm not a vamp anymore, I guess that has to be you. Unless she's turned evil again."

"She does?" Angel didn't realize it how overly excited it sounded until he had already said. Oh, hell. Buffy and Spike gave each other that look again.

"She sure does. But that conversation can wait until tomorrow. The wife and I are tired."

"You won't make it back to your house before sunrise," Buffy added as she playfully slapped her husband's arm. "So feel free to use the guest bedroom. It's windowless. We kept it that way, you know. . . Just in case."

God, it had been so long since he'd even been around anyone who would have had a reason to ever think of him. . . "just in case."

"There's also earplugs in the medicine cabinet. You'll probably need them if you plan on sleeping in at all, because the kiddies tend to be loud. And you'll probably be subjected to several rounds of 'I wanted to know more about the bloody rats' from our daughter."

"She's a tad loud," Buffy agreed.

"I noticed. She reminds me a lot of Connor's daughter Katie."

Both Buffy and Spike looked confused. "Who's Connor?" they asked, almost in harmony.

"I thought you were tired. I'll tell you tomorrow." The amazing thing, Angel thought, as he headed toward the guest room, was that he might actually do it.

* * *

The End. 


End file.
